Wishful
by Yeghishe
Summary: Movie-verse Canon Continuation. Toby wishes his sister away and the Goblin King naturally takes some liberties in its interpretation. Sarah returns to the Underground a little older and, perhaps, little wiser. [5/7]
1. Your Slave

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 **Wishful**

 **Chapter I**

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 **"I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."**

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Toby Williams was having a rotten seven-year-old day—the juice was gone, his snack of slightly browned apples had been disappointing, and Kate was being…well Kate. Her round cheeks and warm baby cooing seemed to hold Toby's mother captive.

"Mama? Mama! MA-MA!"

When his mother responded distractedly he stamped his foot and shrieked, "I wish the goblins would come take away my sister right now!"

All he got for his trouble was a time out while Kate babbled happily on her quilt.

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Sarah was in the midst of a writing binge: the kind where she subsisted on coffee and cheese sandwiches and wrote as fast as her pen could fly across the paper.

The windows across the room were open to the summer wind and the curtains fluttered in the breeze.

She flipped the manuscript page and began a new line.

The shriek of an owl startled her and she turned to look through the window as the raptor circled the tree once before entering her room.

She barely had time to be frightened before Jareth, the Goblin King, stood before her.

"Oh god!" she gasped.

He was just as she remembered him—flamboyant in his sequined cloak, with the arrogant tilt of his head and his strange bright, mismatched eyes.

"Sarah—what a pleasant surprise. Who knew you could inspire such feelings from across town?" His voice was warm and he smiled a little, just the slightest curve of his narrow lips. At fifteen Sarah had thought his smile cruel, but at twenty-one she recognized the real laughter in his mismatched eyes.

"Feelings?" she murmured, a terrible thought beginning to occur to her.

"What's said is said." Echoing another conversation in another bedroom.

Sarah shivered.

"But I didn't call for you…"

"Mores the pity," Jareth smiled again cocking his head, strands of his wild wheat blond hair stirring in some magic wind.

He had been stern when he had come to her last time, intimidating and intentionally belittling. This time his stance was looser and he looked around them in undisguised interest.

"So this is where the Great Williams writes."

Sarah found herself blushing, "How do you know about my work?"

"I _do_ read Sarah," his voice was faintly chiding.

"So uhm… why are you here?"

"I've brought you a gift."

"Is it a Crystal?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

"So defiant, still," Jareth growled. In another conversation she might have found it intimidating but his eyes were still lit with that strange private amusement. He took a step forward and she leaned back further into her desk chair.

"Actually it's a ticket," he extended a slender gloved hand palm up and a small golden square appeared in it.

When he extended it to her she took it against her better judgment. There was something so comforting, in a way, about seeing him again. There were times when she had actually considered that she might be mentally ill and creating the whole experience in her mind but Jareth was so present, so real that she was convinced anew that she was grounded in reality. A reality, it seemed, that had room in between its molecules for glimmering magic dust.

"One way ticket to the Underground?" Sarah read the elegant typography slowly, horror dawning.

Jareth smiled again, wider and fuller, showing all of his pointed crooked teeth. "Its lovely there Sarah, as you well know, and the Labyrinth has missed you." He reached out to touch one slender finger to her cheek. "Lets go."

"But how…" she protested. "Toby!"

Jareth rubbed his hands together. "The boy had his uses after all."

"But who is going to run the Labyrinth for me? Toby is only seven and it's _dangerous_." She shuddered to think of all the narrow escapes she had had as a teenager.

Jareth's smile widened.

"Will I—will I have to solve it again?" The thought didn't fill her with as much dread as she thought it should.

Jareth reached down and took both of her hands in a gentle grip, urging her to her feet. "I suppose you could name your own forfeit if you wish to travel the Labyrinth again—I _can_ be kind. But no—no one is going to run the Labyrinth for you. I am—" here he paused meaningfully, "afraid you'll have to stay forever." He sounded anything but repentant.

"And if I refuse?"

"Such hostility Sarah, ought I to do something to actually inspire it?"

Another time, another conversation. 'I am exhausted from living up to your expectations,' he had said, looking so intense as he had searched her face as though memorizing it. He had offered her a Crystal and she had seen his angular face reflected in it.

Her room was fading she realized, and Jareth's hands were gently tugging her forward.

She took one step to regain her balance and immediately realized her mistake as the Aboveground dematerialized completely.

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 _Edited by_ _Claviculae on January 15th, 2016._

 _Dedicated, in some small way, to the illustrious David Bowie (1947-2016).  
_


	2. Precious Thing

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 **Wishful**

 **Chapter II**

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 **"** **How you turn my world, you precious thing."**

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There was no jarring landing, just a moment of grey and then they were standing in a circular stone room with colorful tapestries hanging on the walls, a touch of glitter just fading out of her peripheral vision.

"Here we are—the Castle, and I took you straight to it this time." The king smiled down at her, one arm twined around her shoulders and the other still cradling her hand. It was a strangely intimate embrace.

"Jareth—"

"A simple 'thank you' will suffice," he purred in her ear.

She jerked away, the reality sinking in as she stared out of the great window and down over the kingdom spread out like a carpet. "I want an explanation!"

Jareth whirled away, cloak sparking, and sat down on a throne-like chair and smiled his secretive smile at her. "Always so demanding."

Sarah ignored his teasing, "You said something about Toby? He was fine when I saw him on Sunday. He hugged me goodbye and said he wanted to see me again soon!"

Jareth lounged back and watched her through slightly narrowed eyes. He reminded her of a pleased feline. Traitorously she wondered if he would purr if she dared to rub behind his pointed ears.

"Yes… Toby did mention something about his sister but I really couldn't comment," he murmured.

"Kate!" Understanding dawned, along with mingled horror and relief. "Toby didn't wish me away at all—he wished baby Kate away."

Jareth smiled up at her through his bangs as she advanced, "Oops—well he didn't specify you know, and Sarah, you are his sister as well." He sounded completely unconcerned.

"I can't believe you call yourself the Goblin King and can't even get your duties right," she goaded him.

Instead of anger kindling in his eyes she thought she saw tenderness. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

"Think of it this way Sarah—if I took Kate, Toby would have to run the Labyrinth. I thought you would be more grateful that I protected them both."

Sarah took a step back, conflicted. "I… _am_ thankful. But I also can't stay here." She seemed to remember another argument about gratitude from another time.

Jareth only smirked and held her gaze for a long moment. "Well I would be disappointed if you had lost all of your spark in the last five years," he murmured thoughtfully. "Well you'll at least want to see what everyone has been up too since you left, won't you Sarah?"

He had found her weakness—the friends she had left behind. For a while they had been as real to her as the Aboveground but as the years past she had needed them less and less and they had faded slowly into her dreams until, like Jareth, she wasn't sure if they were real or simply a figment of her fifteen year old mind.

"Hoggle is here? Ludo, Sir Didymus? Ambrosius?"

Jareth stood gracefully and beckoned her closer, "Well they are _mostly_ here—after their penances for aiding you, and you know the punishment had to fit the crime."

Sarah stared at him in horror for a long moment. "What have you _done_?"

He threw his head back and laughed, full and loud, in genuine amusement. When he looked at her again his strange eyes were crinkled around the corners and his crooked smile so disarmingly genuine that she almost smiled back.

"Oh Sarah," he said fondly, "I'm afraid I did too thorough a job with you—you believe me a monster." The last was said softly and wistfully as the last of his laughter faded. "They are here, and you'll find them unchanged… and unhurt."

He led her away from the window with a gloved hand on her elbow and Sarah allowed it, although, if pressed, she wouldn't have been able to explain why.

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He guided her through clean halls, well-lit and hung with various pictures and oddities.

The goblins were much like she remembered—and yet… not. They were still ugly as ever but now cleaner, and more neatly and brightly dressed and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"But last time…" she murmured questioningly.

"They like to meet the expectations of The Runners. It's great fun for them." Jareth ginned down at her, his easy manner still a bit startling.

"Quite like their King," Sarah sighed, and looked away.

Jareth's hand tightened on her elbow slightly before releasing her. "Yes, its rather a weakness of mine, isn't it, being accommodating. Well, you'll just go through there." He motioned out through an arch into a sunlit courtyard.

"They know I'm here?"

"I nearly had to bring them along when I came to fetch you back." He reached out as though to touch her hair where it curled, still long and dark as ever, over her shoulder, but aborted the gesture at the last moment.

Sarah took no time to consider the meaning of this and hurried out into the sunshine without a backward glance.

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The light was dazzling, reflecting off of the colorful mosaic tiles, and for a moment Sarah couldn't see.

"Sarah? You're finally here?" a familiar gruff voice sounded. And then her vision cleared and there was Hoggle, his craggy face lighting up in a wide toothy smile.

Sarah was immediately transported back five years to a time when things had been much simpler. Kneeling and throwing her arms around her waist-high friend, she laughed in relief.

"There now," he muttered grumpily as she squeezed him. "No need to fuss."

Sarah sat back onto her heels, properly chastened. "It's just been a while."

Hoggle averted his gaze to the tiled courtyard, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "'S been few years all right." There was a long pause before he added, "You got pretty." And it was almost an accusation.

Sarah had to laugh a little as Ambrosius reintroduced himself to her with a series of licks.

"My lady! Forsooth, your return is cause for great rejoicing." Sir Didymus smiled underneath his mustache.

"SAWAH!" Ludo rounded the corner at a gallop, all curved horns and scraggly red fur.

There was a strangeness to seeing this diverse group again—she lacked the easy manners of the child she had been and they too seemed to notice that she had changed. Life had gained complexity in five years that the innocence of childhood could not readily understand. But she enjoyed their company and the link they were to her greatest adventure.

As the light began to slant and fade as evening approached, Hoggle reminded her again that things had changed. "Its time fer you to get back, Sarah."

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She wandered back into the castle, feet dragging. It wasn't that she was _afraid_ of Jareth exactly; breaking his hold over her had been her final liberation, after all. However, the sexual energy that she hadn't completely understood as a teenager was still simmering just under the surface of his luminescent skin, stronger than ever. She wasn't a child anymore and what had been exciting, confusing and frustrating before had sharpened into a dangerous desire that threatened her levelheaded good sense. After all, he looked at her the way that a man looks at a woman he wishes to keep.

The halls were lit with smoking torches but seemed empty of goblin-kind and Sarah followed the brighter lit passages toward the next confrontation.

She found him in what looked to be a smallish sort of dining room. There was a circular table set up in the middle, lit from above by a chandelier dripping in teardrop crystals. He was perched on a window ledge, long legs folded up in front of him. His gloveless hands folded over his knee. She had never noticed how long and slender his fingers were, or the pointed nails that tipped them.

"Did you have a nice afternoon Sarah?" His voice was soft and his face averted, giving her a good look at his sharp profile.

She nodded, feeling suddenly and rather inexplicably shy. It had been easier to be angry and defiant on Toby's behalf than on her own it seemed.

"Come to dinner," he beckoned, unfolding himself from his seat.

Sarah frowned, "I'm not hungry and I'd like to go home." Her stomach chose that moment to loudly and embarrassingly announce itself.

He pulled out one of the carved, wooden chairs. "Come Sarah, don't let your anger starve you," he chided. When he said it like that, all concern and faint reproof, she felt like a child again.

She really was hungry though, she decided. Defiantly she sauntered around him and pulled out her own chair.

He stood for a moment, staring down at her with a strange, dejected expression before almost visibly shaking himself and sitting opposite her. "Why must you fight me so, Sarah?" he asked softly.

"I don't know… why are you ruining my life?" she muttered grumpily, eyeing the spread hungrily.

He either didn't catch her snarl or, more likely, chose to ignore her as he leaned forward to slice the roasted bird that dominated the small table. There was fresh fruit, bread and butter, and some unfamiliar-looking roasted vegetables.

"Pomegranate?" He extended the tray towards her, the seeds glowing crimson in the low light.

Sarah thought of Persephone of Greek myth and frowned. "No thanks."

Jareth's smile was knowing.

Once she began eating she forgot to be angry. Jareth didn't speak and she was in no mood to make small talk about what mischief he had been up to since they had last met.

When she was finished she took her wine glass to the window to evade the Goblin King's bright stare.

"We have been waiting," he said gently, appearing at her side, startling her.

"We?" she murmured questioningly.

He motioned out at the expanse of the Goblin Kingdom, now robed in the ever-deepening darkness of night. " _I_ have been waiting, Sarah," he said softer. "For my Queen."

"I can't possibly—" Sarah began protesting.

Jareth laid a bare finger over her lips. "I'm afraid that you'll find this magic is not so easy to break as you may have become accustomed to."

Sarah snapped her teeth at his retreating digit and his smile grew delighted. "Biting Sarah? My—how bloodthirsty."

Nothing seemed to irritate or frustrate him, she frowned, perplexed. She seemed to remember Jareth having less of a tolerance for annoyances. She might have grown up some in five years but that didn't seem like all that long for a Goblin King.

She took another swallow of her wine —it really was quite good—and turned to face him.

He wasn't really significantly taller than her, she realized suddenly as she stared up into his face. Those strange, otherworldly eyes were only a few inches away.

"You have no power over me," she said firmly and then waited. Jareth flinched as if struck and stepped back. Last time the magic-breaking effects had been immediate but a long moment passed and nothing happened.

"I'm afraid it won't work this time Sarah," he whispered, and turned away, shoulders hunched.

She gaped at him. "But why not?"

"It's the Labyrinth who keeps you here this time, not I."

She passed a tired hand over her eyes. "This must be a dream—a bad dream."

"Have you eaten any peaches lately Sarah?" And his devilish smirk was back in full force.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll wake up tomorrow and everything will be alright."

Jareth's smile wavered slightly, "Well let me show you to your bed then."

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"Your room," he flung the doors wide.

"I'm not staying," she insisted obstinately.

His hands rested lightly on her shoulders. "Sarah, I have been waiting—patiently, I thought." His voice always caressed her name.

"Did you trick Toby into wishing me away?"

"I may have encouraged him a small bit."

"Jareth—"

"Sarah," her name was a sigh on his lips. "You never called, never asked for me." He murmured, so close to her that she could feel his warm breath on her ear.

"You stole my brother, maybe I didn't _want_ to see you again. Ever think of that?" Sarah growled.

His hands dropped from her shoulders. "I'm hurt—" his tone was decidedly whiney. "Well, get used to it Sarah—because you will be here for a long while." He pulled back, face calm.

"Forever is not long at all," she murmured distractedly.

She didn't see the longing flicker, naked, over his face.

"Goodnight Sarah," he said softly as the door closed behind him.

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 _Edited by_ _Claviculae on January 15th, 2016.  
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	3. Defy Me

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 **Wishful**

 **Chapter III**

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 **"** **Don't defy me."**

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The room he had prepared for her was an odd mix of her life. Her desk from her current studio apartment was there, right down to her owl shaped paperweight and the notebook that that she had abandoned on a new page when Jareth had shown up. But there was also a collection of her childhood toys that made her simultaneously roll her eyes and smile fondly.

Jareth's emerging sense of humor was evident here—Lancelot, the poor, bedraggled bear that had tipped off her first adventure held a spot of honor in the center of the four poster bed.

She shook her head and crossed to on of the windows that looked out over another vista of the Goblin City and further beyond that—the Labyrinth, silent and dark.

She fiercely frowned down at it. Jareth had told her that it was the Maze's doing that she was trapped here this time. Well, she had figured out the Labyrinth once, had stared her dreams and desires in the face and prevailed—surely she could do it again. She was older now, and she hoped that that meant that she was stronger and smarter.

With these comforting thoughts she turned back towards the inviting bed.

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"Good morning, Sarah," a soft voice greeted her from the doorway. Sarah rolled over and raised her head. Standing in the doorway, watching her carefully as he balanced a tray in his bare hands, was Jareth.

She blinked sleepily at him through the golden dawn light slanted across the floor, brightening the rugs and chasing away the shadows.

After a long moment he took a very slow and deliberate step into her room and then, when she didn't object, crossed to her bedside.

"Did you sleep well?" he inquired, waiting for her to rearrange herself among her pillows so he could set the tray over her legs.

"Yes." She amazed herself with her honest answer. "So this isn't a dream then."

He cocked his head, the morning light making his skin appear luminous and golden. She wondered if she wiped her hand across his cheek if it would come back glittery.

"Did you really think it was, Sarah?"

She shrugged a little, "I guess not. So what mischief are you going to make today for me?" She turned her attention to the tray that contained a familiar breakfast: toast with jam, black coffee, and sausage links.

Jareth leaned against the corner of her four-poster bed and played with the cascading ruffles of his navy blue silk shirt. She noticed his nails again, long, pointed and thick, almost like an animal's claws. He caught her staring and dropped his sleeve, tucking his hands behind his back.

"Mischief? Surely not." He tried to smirk but it didn't quite meet his expressive eyes. "But perhaps you have time in your busy schedule for a tour?"

There was something he wasn't saying, she realized. In between his brooding stares and lighthearted teasing, something seemed to be on his mind.

"I've been through your Labyrinth," she reminded him around a mouthful of toast.

He made a dismissive motion with one hand. "This is a Goblin Kingdom; the Labyrinth is only a part of it—albeit a large one."

She shrugged. "Alright, but I'm still not staying."

"Then perhaps this outing with provide you with some ideas about how to escape my wicked clutches a second time," he smirked over his shoulder as he sauntered away from her bedside.

Sarah rolled her eyes as his retreating back and took another deep drink of her coffee.

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Jareth made a surprisingly engaging tour guide, as Sarah was surprised to discover. When he wasn't posturing and threatening her little brother's humanity he was actually rather likeable. This was dangerous—Jareth who was trying to please was as much of a force as Jareth who was trying to intimidate: formidable and intense.

The Goblin City was more expansive than she had realized on her last visit. There were markets and little winding lanes lined with shops selling everything from flowers and jewelry to medieval-styled armor and sweets. The goblins she met treated her with a new deference similar to their response to their fey King.

"And this is the entrance to the Labyrinth," he said proudly, motioning towards an ornate gate worked in a vine pattern.

Sarah frowned, "I thought the entrance was at the top of that hill…"

"Entrance—exit… top or bottom? The Labyrinth changes its mind all the time," he said in a singsong voice.

She looked at him sharply, expecting a teasing smile but found him watching her seriously. "Jareth…"

He took a step closer to her, taking her hands in his gloved ones. "Sarah?" His eyes were intense—one blue and one brown.

"Isn't the Labyrinth under _your_ power?" she asked in a small voice.

He cocked his head, his wild golden hair shifting around his shoulders. "Yes… and no. There are areas that are fully mine but the greater part is its own entity."

"So when you said the Labyrinth was keeping me here that wasn't another elaborate puzzle?"

His eyebrows came down and his eyes darkened unexpectedly. "Of course not, Sarah." He actually sounded rather affronted. "But I _could_ make you a few puzzles if you would enjoy them." He smiled then, as though delighted by this new idea.

"But I don't want anything from you," she said, bewildered by his rapid mood changes.

"That's half of the trouble Sarah—if you wanted something from me I could at least _try_ to give it to you."

Another echo of another conversation: _You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you!_

"Jareth, please."

He embraced her and, disoriented, she let him enfold her in his arms.

"Sarah," he murmured against her hair, "don't defy me." It was a plea as much as it was a demand.

When his lips slanted over hers she surrendered and let the tide carry her away.

His eyes were different colors now, she realized. They seemed to change according to his mood—one was golden amber and one was a darker sea green. He carefully watched her reaction from under lowered lids.

"Why?" she questioned.

He raised one pointed eyebrow.

"Why me? Why after five years? Why?"

"Because you needed to grow up. I'm not a monster when I can help it. And fifteen is a little young, even by fey standards. Humans are so—finite... so delicate," he said quietly, ignoring her first question neatly. "You wither away so quickly in the Aboveground." His hand went to her cheek. There was a long moment of silence, and then he continued ruefully. "You look tired Sarah; let me take you back to the castle."

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 _Edited by_ _Claviculae on January 25th, 2016.  
_


	4. Truth Hurts

**.**

 **Wishful**

 **Chapter IV**

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 **"** **Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl; 'Cause it hurts like hell."**

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Sarah stood in her chamber, staring unseeingly across the rugs and out of the windows at the slanting afternoon light playing over the winding Maze.

He kissed her—Jareth the Goblin King had kissed her on the lips and she, Sarah the Triumphant Runner, had let him. Not only had she allowed it, she wasn't completely sure she regretted it.

Questions about his intentions and what she was going to do about the whole mess plagued her late into the night.

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It was before dawn when she slipped out of the castle, bleary eyed but restless. Finding her way back down to the entrance (exit?) of the Labyrinth was surprisingly straightforward. There were few goblins about and the ones who were only nodded and smiled up at her as though she had every right to be wandering the kingdom at such an ungodly hour.

She unlatched the gate and walked boldly through it. Strange how knowing that the Labyrinth was aware of her in an unnatural way altered her perception of it: it seemed sharper now, more malicious perhaps, or maybe just more watchful. She wandered aimlessly, hoping that inspiration would strike. Before long it was early afternoon, her steps were dragging, and her stomach grumbling. She began to wonder if Jareth would leave her here all day and into the night out of spite if she couldn't manage to find her way back to the castle.

Rounding a corner, deep in these thoughts, she found a beautiful little courtyard filled with the sound of running water and smelling sweetly of the magnolia blossoms that hung thickly on the trees that surrounded the perimeter.

It was lovely, cheerful little place and she had skipped the last few steps to enter it before drawing up short.

Jareth was sitting on the edge of a fountain, booted feet propped up and looking like the picture of casual elegance in his shirtsleeves with no jacket, while, of all things, reading a thick book.

"What do _you_ want?" she accused, resentful of his intrusion even though she had been almost hoping for it.

He didn't even look up. "I thought you might be hungry—the Labyrinth certainly works up my appetite."

"For human flesh?" She quipped and advanced on him.

He tilted his head back to look up at her, on eye golden and the other indigo. His smile was tight but his tone was teasing. "Now Sarah, I haven't devoured an infant in years and years." He motioned to a table behind him. "I can go away again if you like." He offered quietly. "I had hoped that we might at least be… _friends._ After all, you are going to be here for a while."

"Friends might be a bit much to ask."

"Friend-ly then?" He wheedled, sounding shockingly serious.

"Friendly I can probably manage, at least over lunch."

It was surprisingly easy to call a truce over the feast that Jareth referred to as lunch. It was the sort of meal that she imagined eating on the bank of a river somewhere in Europe. Little briny olives, meat sandwiches, hard and soft cheeses, crusty bread and crisp sparkling wine.

They ate in silence at first: Sarah, because she hadn't had any breakfast and was famished and Jareth because he was watching her intently from under his pointed eyebrows. Presently she gave him her attention and watched him straighten slightly under the weight of her gaze.

"Did you find anything useful today Sarah?" He asked. She almost fancied he was serious but the little twist of his lips convinced her that he was making fun of her instead.

"You know I didn't," she snapped. She wasn't certain just how he did it, but she knew he must have ways of watching and keeping track of her. Last time he had always seemed to know where she was and what she was doing—a step or two ahead of her, with his mocking smile and sparkling eyes.

He shrugged, an elegant little gesture of his shoulders and she felt his emotional retreat like a cool wind.

"What have you been doing then, these last few years then?" She asked, biting back a snarky comment about manipulating seven-year-olds and kidnapping emerging authors, reminding herself that they were being friendly.

He blinked and gave her a long level look. "The same sorts of things I've been doing for hundreds of years—terrorizing my people, ripping innocent infants from the arms of their caregivers, flying around like an overgrown pigeon… among other diversions." His tone was light but his eyes were cool.

She had hurt him, she realized. Somehow she had managed to pierce through his glimmering fey armor and catch him out. It didn't please her at all. In fact she wanted to mend the breach immediately.

"Well you know what I've been doing," she said brightly.

He steepled his fingers and cocked his head. "Ah yes—the young Williams: an esteemed author of juvenile fantasy."

'Juvenile fantasy' was an absolutely correct term for Sarah's published works, a term she had even used herself, but coming from his mouth it almost sounded demeaning.

She ducked her head, struggling to find a comeback that was witty enough without being hostile. Nothing came to mind and she suddenly felt exhausted. Thirteen hours (minus what he had stolen from her because of her foolish insistence that the labyrinth posed little challenge) had been enough time to cultivate some sort of strength of character and righteous anger. It was significantly harder to be angry with a goblin king who was aiming woo and striving to please.

He stood, interrupting her thoughts and offered her his gloved hand. "Walk with me?" She couldn't look into his face but his voice was gentle.

She accepted his peace offering and allowed him to tug her lightly to her feet. They left the little bower by a different way than she had come. He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and covered it with his own. For a long while they wandered, silently observing the changing faces of the Labyrinth together.

"No one can blame you for walking away," he mused finally.

She glanced up at him, questioningly. He gave her a glance out of the corner of his eye and a tiny smirk.

"But too much rejection wears on a man."

"You're not a man," she returned, but it was without heat.

She could feel his amusement without even looking at him. "Not exactly I suppose—not a human man, but even non-human species can have male and female counterparts."

"Biology never was my strength in school," Sarah lamented.

Jareth laughed, "The real question is one of compatibility."

"And I suppose humans and fey are compatible?" She mused.

Jareth seemed to be warming up to the subject, "Indeed, each brings particular strengths to the table: fey have longevity, power, magic that humans lack—and humans have such lovely emotional range and depth of character."

"Fey lack emotional depth?"

"I thought that should be obvious from my own clumsiness—although I would like to think that I've improved a marginal amount in five years. Loving you has been a lesson of all sorts of things hereto unfamiliar or unnecessary."

The word love had not been spoken before this moment—indeed for all of his posturing and flirtation, it hadn't really crossed Sarah's mind that something of that intensity could be simmering below his teasing façade. Thankfully he continued on as though he had not just said something earthshattering.

"Patience, for example. Five years really isn't long in the scheme of things but I have passed decades that seemed shorter than these last years."

"I suppose there isn't much need for patience when you are a magical king," Sarah smiled a little in spite of herself.

Jareth laughed and turned her so that they were facing the castle hill and they began a slow assent toward its spires. "Indeed—I hope you'll find the Underground holds someone true and worthwhile."

Sarah looked at him sharply. "Well apparently it's only forever."

"Not long at all," Jareth murmured.

And suddenly they were emerging at the gates of the Goblin City and he was bowing over her hand and smiling slyly down at her and promising to see her at dinner, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

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	5. Sunlight, Heartbeat

**.**

 **Wishful**

 **Chapter V**

* * *

 **"Live without your sunlight. Love without your heartbeat."**

* * *

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Dinner was quiet. Sarah felt awkward because of their rather illuminating afternoon together. Love seemed rather farfetched, didn't it? A fey enchanter, King of a magical land, falling in love with a whiney fifteen-year-old human mortal? It was the sort of thing that happened in fairy tales.

Jareth wasn't eating, choosing instead to brood into his crimson wine. When he finally caught her staring at him she was rather shocked at the sadness reflected there, one sky blue now and the other a steely gray.

"I wish you would give me something to do Sarah," he mused so quietly she wasn't sure if she was meant to hear him at all.

"What do you mean?" She asked anyway—she had never trodden with caution in her dealings with him anyway.

He tipped his head back to drain his wine goblet in one long gulp, his pale slender throat highlighted by the flickering candles. "I fulfilled your expectations last time, didn't I? A little too well your reaction to me now is anything to go by." He said a little regretfully. "Now the only thing you desire is beyond even my power to give you."

"My freedom." Sarah reminded him unnecessarily.

"Wouldn't you rather have the moon?"

She laughed and reached for the wine but when she glanced at his face as she leaned forward to refill his glass she was shocked by his hopeful sincerity.

"Could you? Give me the moon that is?"

"I could place the sky within your eyes or the moon within your heart or lead you on a path between the stars," he trailed off. "We've been strangers but it doesn't have to remain that way." (*)

Sarah was beginning to wonder if remaining in the Underground would be so awful after all. Jareth seemed able to pass between the two worlds, which gave her hope since she was not prepared to completely give up Toby and Kate. But a woman could write books in a tower room as well as a dingy apartment.

She hurriedly topped off her own glass and stood. Time to retreat before any of these traitorous ideas took root.

"Goodnight stranger," she saluted him with her wine glass.

His mouth twisted a little but he dutifully lifted his glass in response.

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It took her all morning to decide on the first steps of her plan to trial run an attempt at dual citizenship, after a fashion anyway. Jareth hadn't made a nuisance of himself today and if she was honest, she was rather missing him.

She found him in the throne room, reclining across a leather-draped mound as he heard from his subjects. She only meant to peek in and try to ascertain whether or not he would be able to get away for lunch so she could make her own supplication but the goblins near the door noticed her and a whisper spread through the masses.

Jareth lifted bright eyes to see the disturbance Sarah belatedly wished she had stepped back.

But he smiled and sat up, patting the space next to him in such a charmingly inviting manner she almost laughed. It seemed completely at odds with the grim sort of King he had seemed during their first meeting.

The whole court had stopped and all waited to see what their reluctant Almost-Queen would do. Curious and a bit flattered she crossed the wide room and climbed the steps to sit next to him. He gave her a look that was equal parts smug and pleased and looped an arm loosely around her waist in a proprietary gesture.

When she didn't object, he relaxed slightly against her and motioned for the gnarled little goblin to continue his longwinded supplication.

When the goblin requests had been dealt with, with a lot more listening, nodding, and pleasant agreement from Jareth than Sarah was used to seeing the court emptied and Jareth rubbed his gloved hands together with a smile.

"Lunch?" He asked. One eye was golden and the other violet under his pointed brows.

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Sarah waited until they had finished eating before declaring, "I want to make a deal."

"With me?"

"And the Labyrinth."

"Oh this _will_ be entertaining, do go on," he sat back in his dining chair and made a motion with one gloved hand. His face was so carefully blank, his voice mocking and stare full of wary challenge.

"I want to go home—" she began.

His eyes closed as if in pain. "I have explained to you, Sarah, again and again—"

"To _visit_. Jareth, you have to listen."

His strange mismatched eyes widened slightly. "Rather Beauty and the Beast, isn't it?"

"The comparison had occurred to me," Sarah allowed.

He cocked his head, silently regarding her.

"We always try to have Sunday dinner together and I would like to keep the tradition," she finally offered, by way of explanation.

He nodded slowly, "Today is Sunday Aboveground."

"Can it be done? Can I go home for a little while and see the kids and eat dinner?"

He took a deep breath, "It can be done. Get ready and I'll take you up in an hour." He stood abruptly and stalked silently from the room.

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They stood at the top of the street, looking down at the house that Sarah had grown up in and where they had first had the pleasure of meeting. She smiled a little, because—for all its danger and trial—their meeting and the subsequent quest had been one of the most formative experiences of her life. The house looked deceptively the same with its Victorian style wooden trim and its peaked tower, painted crisp white and sunny yellow.

She smiled, already anticipating seeing Toby and sweet baby Kate again but when she took an eager step forward Jareth's gloved hand tightened slightly on her elbow.

She glanced back, equal measures annoyed and concerned, but Jareth's gaze was strangely serious.

"If you're trying to run away Sarah, I have to warn you it won't work. The Labyrinth has a claim on you." He wasn't mocking anymore; his expression was a little sad. He reached out with his other gloved hand to tentatively touch her cheek again.

Sarah leaned into his caress slightly and the furrow between his arched brows eased a little.

"That's not a threat," he reminded her, quietly. "It's just the way it is."

Sarah smiled a little, thinking of all the threats traded between them five years before. "If you were threatening me I would know it."

He leaned forward a touch and for a breathless moment, Sarah thought he was going to kiss her, right here in the middle of her old neighborhood, in full view of her family's home. But the moment passed and he pulled back, closing his eyes with a slight grimace.

"I'll be back." He finally murmured, frowning slightly. _When your time is up._ Hung unspoken between them.

Sarah gave him a little wave and trotted off down the street. Goodness, save her from overdramatic Goblin Kings. He behaved like she was off to her own execution, not just having a normal dinner with her family.

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Toby and Kate were glad as ever to see her and she managed to sequester herself in the playroom with them both for a few hours. Kate was still young enough that she adored being held and snuggled and Sarah obliged. Toby had school projects and new toys to show her, friends to tell her about and Kate to complain about.

The real trial began after the children had been fed and bundled off to bed and her father and step-mother sat her down in the formal dining room to enjoy the traditional bland chicken and green beans they often served. Sarah often wished that she was willing to rock the boat by eating cheese sandwiches in the kitchen with Toby instead and leaving early.

There was the usual small talk; Irene's bridge club and her father's latest promotion, what Toby was learning in preschool and Kate's latest milestone.

Sarah endured it all with good grace but when her father wiped his mouth and leaned back and Sarah knew what was coming. The obligatory 'What's new?' as though he actually cared and didn't think her modestly successful authorship career wasn't as silly as her mother's acting had been before her career had fizzled off.

"Well…" she swallowed and leaned back and studied her plate seriously. "I've moved and—"

"To a better area of town, I hope!" Her father interrupted. "If you'd let us we could put you up in some of those nice new condos they are building near the river."

This was a familiar scene—her father offering her money thinly disguised as gifts. Besides his fronting her publishing costs for her first novel, Sarah hadn't allowed him to contribute to her daily life. It had seemed too much like a bribe. And to what end she wasn't completely certain. She had come to terms with the divorce and her father's new family. She adored Toby and Kate, even if her stepmother still got on her nerves. She dutifully and mostly joyfully came to Sunday dinners except when her father and stepmother were traveling or her own deadlines loomed too large. Whatever lingering guilt her father nursed was none of her concern.

"Actually I met someone," She shot Irene a smile. Finally, after five long years, she could tell her stepmother that she had a date. There would be no reason to include that she had actually known the man for just as long and he happened to be a dangerous, magical King straight out of her favorite fairytale play.

Irene made a pleased sound. "Finally! I've been so worried about you Sarah."

Sarah bit back a laugh. Yes, Irene had brought up Sarah's singleness and lack of dates almost every Sunday. It was one of her most annoying habits.

"When can we meet him?" Her stepmother pressed.

"Uhm…" Oops. Sarah imagined Jareth in his flowing robes or tight leather jackets, hair wild, crystals clattering in his palm, turning up on her father's doorstep with a smirk on his angular face. It would be a disaster. "Well he is pretty busy and I didn't want to just spring him on you all. I'll have to see if he can get a free weekend."

"So he _does_ work then," her father inquired severely.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yes dad, he's in management—very exclusive and busy." _Ruling a magical kingdom, stealing babies, flirting with human girls, flying around like an overgrown pigeon…_ the list could go on.

Robert looked poised to asked more uncomfortable questions about Jareth that she probably couldn't answer when Irene blessedly interrupted.

"Oh look, Robert, the owl is back!" Irene enthused, motioning to the dining room window.

A large Barn Owl perched in the tree outside, perfectly framed by the bow window.

"Back?" Sarah inquired curiously.

"Oh yes, didn't you notice it growing up? It was always hanging around. I haven't seen it in a while… since you moved out actually," Irene mused.

Well if that wasn't a clue to her exit nothing was.

Sarah stood and folded her napkin. "Thank you for dinner. I might not be by next week but I'll let you know. Kiss the kids for me."

"And your boy?" Irene pressed.

Jareth being called a boy, Sarah smirked. She hoped Irene did it to his face. "I'll talk to him," she promised.

"We should meet him, Sarah," her father said severely, frowning. "I wished you'd have introduced us before it got serious."

It had always been serious, Sarah thought.

"I'll talk to him," she repeated.

 **.·ˆ}...{ˆ·.**  
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 **"ˆ"**

Letting herself out the front door she glanced towards the now empty tree. No owls in sight.

Sighing she walked down the steps and prepared to head back up to where Jareth had dropped her off. A movement to her right caught her off guard but it was just Jareth, emerging from the darkness.

"Time is up," he said softly, and a bit unnecessarily. His expression was tense and his gloved hands were clenched as though he was preparing for a struggle.

Sarah left the shadow of the porch to take his arm without protest. "I'm tired," she murmured as the Aboveground faded.

* * *

 _(*) Taken, unapologetically, from the lyrics to As the World Falls Down._


End file.
